


Variation in Act II

by The_Hypothesis



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Ballet, Ballet Ianto, Falling In Love, Ianto Jones Backstory, Jack Has Feelings, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hypothesis/pseuds/The_Hypothesis
Summary: Ianto was a mystery to everyone at the hub, and they weren’t shy about trying to solve it.Also known as the story where Ianto used to do ballet.(Now Updated with Part 2)
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 28
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

Ianto was a mystery to everyone at the hub, and they weren’t shy about trying to solve it. 

Granted, they mostly operated behind his back. Tosh tried any number of times to hack his file. Owen tried to find any medical record on him. And Gwen-- she would just ask him personal questions straight to his face.

Somehow, Ianto could always change the subject in a way no other human was capable. He would give a polite but useless answer, usually not related to the question. Then he would ask Gwen a question that could get her talking for minutes on end about herself. He was _scary_.

Jack chastised the group for their activities, but never quite stopped them. He was also curious himself about the ex-Torchwood One employee who was now content to just make them coffee and feed their pets. But he came along with a hand written recommendation and a Pteranodon. He knew Ianto’s previous employer must have had something to do with the absence of information. Hell, they probably retconned him so many times he wouldn’t know the truth anymore. It was probably for the best that they didn’t ask him about his past.

Lunches and car rides would go by with discussion of childhood occurrences, teenage romances, and personal preferences in every category possible. Ianto would just sit and listen. Sometimes he would ask about places mentioned or non relevant things. For the most part though, he would change the subject back to work while the others would feel ashamed that their thoughts and conversations were elsewhere.

Jack was also a mystery. But he was also immortal. It got him a free pass when he didn’t want to explain himself to the team. Ianto had no such luxury and yet he still managed to escape them. 

However, when the incident with Lisa happened, the game was up. Jack demanded his records… his untampered records. If Ianto ever wanted to return to the hub, Jack had to know the truth.

But what _was_ the truth? Where did he go to school? Where did he grow up? Did these things even matter to his job at Torchwood? What could they possibly contain that could help solve the mystery of what the hell happened in the basement?

What came in the mail was not what anyone expected. A package was left at the tourist office without a return address. Thankfully, Jack was the one who intercepted it. Opening it on his way down to his office, he was surprised to see how simple it appeared. Standard Torchwood employee file tagging, and a few dozen pages inside of it. For someone who survived Canary Wharf, it seemed about right. Closing his office door behind him and lowering his blinds, he sat down and braced himself for what he was about to learn of their resident teaboy turned Cyberman enthusiast.

Jack opened the file. 

His eyes scanned the pages for all of three seconds before he promptly reached out, grabbed the chunk of alien coral that adorned his desk, and threw into the adjacent wall in frustration. Line after line was blacked out. Sparse information connected the dots between large passages of censored lines. He couldn’t be more furious if he tried. Gwen knocked on the door.

“Is everything okay in here, Jack? I heard a crash…” She trailed off as she saw the coral now in pieces on the floor. The poor thing...

“Yes.” Jack said abruptly and then sighed. “No. Just a bit aggravated.”

“Anything I could help with? What’s that file?” Gwen quickly asked.

“It’s a classified Torchwood employee record. I was expecting it to be a lot more information on one Ianto Jones. But instead I got this.” Jack said while holding up a form with more Sharpie than words on it.

Gwen gasped. “Is that what I think it is?” 

“Yeah, if you think it is an employee file with no useful information on our rogue coffeemaker.”

“Well… It can’t be too bad, right? What’s the information that isn’t blocked out?” Gwen asked as she came closer to sit in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. She had a point. Jack shuffled through the papers.

“Let’s see…” He started. “Reports from supervisors… Junior Researcher, Ianto Jones. Did good work it appears. List of some projects... This one has some research on an artifact in the archives.” He shuffled around some more. “This one has some personal contacts. Oh, his sister’s address.”

“Ianto has a sister?” Gwen asked politely.

“Yeah.” Jack answered. “A bit older, if I remember correctly.” 

“Hey, couldn’t we just do what the spies do with forms like that?”

“What do you mean?” Jack finally looked up from the pile of forms.

“Don’t they rub lemon juice on them or something, and they can see through to the stuff censored?” She tucked her hair behind her ear like she did when she’s unsure of herself.

“I don’t know what spy films you’ve ever watched. But I’m pretty sure lemon juice won’t do us any good.” Jack said before bracing both hands on his desk and standing up. “I do know what could work, now that you mention it!”

“What’s that, Jack?”

“ _Tosh_.”

Leaving Jack’s office and looking around the hub, Tosh seemed to be the only one else left.

“Where’s Owen?” Jack yelled down to get the quiet woman’s attention.

“It’s Friday night. Where do you think he is?” She replied.

“That’s okay. He’ll just have to miss out on our wild night here. I have a project for you!” Jack said as he bound down the steps, followed by Gwen. Tosh looked at her computer as if trying to suggest she already had a project to work on tonight.

"This is more fun than that. Know anything about uncensoring documents the hardcopy way?" Jack asked as he proffered the folder to her. She looked at it skeptically until she was able to read the writing on the cover.

"Oh! Wow, didn't expect that." She flipped it open and sighed. "Really Jack? This is your problem? Didn't they teach you anything in Torchwood training school?" Toshiko teased while standing, taking the forms with her.

"Training school?" Gwen asked innocently. "I thought we just got lessons on the gun range."

Tosh snorted, attempting not to laugh. " _Really_ , Jack?" 

"Hey!" Jack reprimanded. "That was more job training than I ever got. This is a trial by fire learning environment here."

"It sure is…" Gwen muttered as she watched Tosh pull out something that looked like a compact scanner. After being plugged into the side of the printer, she turned it on and began to feed the pages through. Moments later, the old printer started to turn out copies. All remnants of blackouts had been removed.

“Whoa… how long have we had that?” Jack asked while inspecting the device.

“Since last year. Used to be a laminator, but I added in some alien tech I’ve been playing with and now it’s an x-ray based document decrypter.” 

“Jeez, Tosh. When was the last time you got a raise?” Jack laughed.

But his joke landed flat as the three of them now stood around Tosh’s desk with the uncensored version of Ianto’s past in front of them.

“Are we really doing this? Don’t you think he should be here?” Gwen nervously asked.

“Maybe I should look at this on my own first in my office.” Jack suggested.

“Seriously, Jack?” Tosh asked. “You know I’m just going to sneak a peek anyway. Come on, we've all wanted to know for so long. What’s the betting pool up to now for him having worked as a barista before Torchwood?” 

“I feel like a bunch of gossiping school girls.” Jack muttered to himself.

“Speak for yourself. Although that’s quite the image for you, Jack.” Gwen said.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.” Jack winked at them before flipping the first page over. “Ladies, time to meet Ianto Jones.”

They skimmed the first couple of pages together. 

Old addresses in Wales... 

Deceased family members... 

“Ianto Jones. Age 20. Archive Specialist…” Jack read aloud. “And _Field Agent?!_ ”

“Look at this!” Tosh exclaimed while reading along with them. “Over a dozen successful ops. But he was so young…”

They were seeing just how prolific his career was going before the fall of Canary Wharf…

Before moving to Torchwood Three…

 _Before just being their teaboy…_

But the other shoe dropped when the next page held his retcon record. Not to be confused with the record of all the times he’s retconned bystanders. No. This was a clear list of Yvonne Hartman’s orders after top secret missions to make sure he had no trace of them. Some things were starting to make sense.

“What’s this?” Gwen asked as she slid the next paper out. “Education and employment record. Oh, he better have been a barista, or I swear…”

“Holy shit…” Jack snatched the paper up and read it more closely. “Well he never went to university… and you definitely lost the betting pool. But look at this...” He let out a low whistle and put the form back down where they could all see it. And there it was, right at the bottom of a long list of part-time jobs, life events, and former schooling.

_Age 14, accepted at the Royal Ballet School, London. Trained three years. Dropped out._

_Age 17, arrested for minor theft and burglary._

_Age 18, recruited by Torchwood One._

The rest was history. 

Silence hung between the three coworkers. Each scared to make the first comment. Finally Jack spoke up.

“Well... That explains why he’s so flexible.”

Gwen’s jaw hit the floor as Tosh smacked him in the arm.

“Wait. But that’s like a _really_ hard school to get into, the Royal Ballet. I could only dream of it as a little girl. I guess that explains how he ended up in London from Wales. But wow… you have to be really, _really_ good to get in.” Gwen admonished.

“Well,” Tosh started. “I guess he was really, _really_ good. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess he was.” Jack replied, sounding almost sad. “Dropped out, it said. Not kicked out. Looks like he was getting into trouble, though. I mean… other than that bombshell. There’s nothing really to condemn him about. I’m even wondering if he remembers that he was a field agent?” 

“Jack, that’s really sad.” Gwen said as she watched Jack begin to pile the forms back into the folder. 

“Yeah, Gwen… that is really sad.”

“Do you think he remembers that he did ballet?” Tosh asked quietly.

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that we can never, never, ever let Owen find out about this.”

“Oh God, you’re right." Gwen agreed. "He would never let poor Ianto hear the end of it.” 

They all looked at each other and made a silent pact. This could never see the light of day.

When Ianto returned to his job at the hub after his suspension was served, Jack and the two women definitely watched him more intently than their own jobs should have allowed. It was almost as if they expected him to pirouette his way to the coffee machine. Ianto most likely just assumed they were watching him to make sure he wasn’t making another Cyberman in the basement. _If only he knew the truth_.

Toshiko was almost the first one to crack. It started with her and Gwen quietly talking in the kitchen while splitting the last chocolate muffin.

“You know, to get into that school he must have been doing ballet for a pretty long time. You need to start young to be that good.” Gwen said around a mouthful.

“Wow, that would make sense.” Tosh said but didn’t notice when Gwen suddenly looked like a deer in headlights. Ianto had just quietly joined them in the kitchen. “I really don’t know much about ballet. I was more of a bookworm growing up.”

“I would have never guessed.” Ianto suddenly joked from behind Tosh, sending her spinning.

“Ianto!” Tosh yelped as she turned and started to stutter. “We were just… talking about…”

“The ballet.” Gwen completed and Tosh immediately turned back to stare darts into the other woman. Just at the same time, Jack poked his head out the door, eavesdropping on the conversation. Ianto couldn’t see him from behind. But Jack was giving the chopping motion to his neck as in “ _End this conversation now!_ ”

“Yes.” Tosh agreed. “We were just talking about… the ballet. I was thinking about getting tickets. But I wouldn’t know who to go with.”

Jack looked at Gwen from across the hub. He had to agree, that was a good save.

“Oh.” Ianto said, a bit surprised. “Which ballet were you thinking of seeing?”

“The uh… Nutcracker. Yeah. The Nutcracker.” Tosh tried to say more confidently.

“Hmm. I don’t think you’ll be able to find tickets to the Nutcracker in May. But Coppélia is on tour this Summer.”

“What’s Coppélia about?” Gwen asked.

That’s when Jack dropped his mug out the door.

“Jesus, Jack! Why did you throw your mug on the ground?” Owen yelled from his station in the medical bay. Everyone had turned around to see Jack staring at the pile of shards that was his favorite dragonfly mug.

“I uh… needed another coffee.” Jack said. 

Ianto raised an eyebrow. The two women evacuated the kitchen during the distraction. Ianto just went about pulling out another mug, this one with blue and white stripes, and making his boss another coffee. 

They made it a whole week and a half without another incident. But leave it to Gwen to go out with a bang.

All five of them were squished into the SUV following the trail of a rift gift that came in about an hour ago. Owen was driving and Jack was riding shotgun even though most of the time he was turned around backwards talking to Tosh as she followed the tracker. Somehow Ianto ended up in the middle with his long legs folded in on himself, Gwen and Tosh on either side. It was Gwen who suggested they bring Ianto. Owen just thought he still wasn’t trusted to be at the hub by himself. The rest of them knew Ianto used to be a field agent now. However, the question still hung in the air whether or not Ianto knew this about himself.

After about a half an hour drive outside Cardiff, their rift gift appeared to be some sort of alien aloe plant. The retrieval was uneventful and it was even giving off a pleasant smell to fill the back of the SUV. All in all, it was going to be a good ride home if they added a coffee stop to the experience. Jack couldn’t help but notice (as he was still turned around in his seat to answer Tosh’s questions about the plant) that Ianto was almost content looking. Not as tired as he had been looking since his return. _It was a good look on him_ , Jack thought to himself.

Both him and Gwen were staring out the driver side window, watching the local places pass by. That’s when Gwen saw it. Her old dance studio she used to attend as a little girl. _Ballet and tap_ , she thought with a bit of pride. 

“Oh guys, look. See that little place on the right? I used to take dance lessons there. Aw, I was adorable back then with the little tutus!” She suddenly said with an air of delight. “It was so much fun, like being a little princess!”

No one knew how to respond to her outburst. Ianto just looked at her, waiting for her to go on. Jack even just froze, sitting backwards in his seat, waiting for where this was going.

“Ianto!” She exclaimed, and then asked him with a light punch to his arm, “You used to do ballet, _didn’t you?_ ”

It was like the world stopped spinning.

“Um… yeah.” He replied quietly.

Owens' head whipped around so fast.

“ _You what_?!” He yelled.

And that’s when Owen abruptly rear ended the car in front of them, activating the airbags and throwing Jack backwards from where he was perched. 

Thankfully, only Jack died in the accident.

  
  
When they got back to the hub, Jack was already on his feet again. However, Owen was not. He was doubled over on the couch, laughing like a madman.

“How come I didn’t know this?! Teaboy is a damn ballerina, too!” He howled. “What else am I missing out on? Did you dance with the Rockettes?”

Ianto looked at Jack pleadingly. Jack looked as guilty as he felt.

“All right, come on Owen. It’s no big deal. Get back to work.” Jack said while giving Owen a light kick to the shin from where he laid.

Tosh chimed in from across the hub where she was moving the new plant in with Gwen. 

“I’m sure you were a great ballerina. Weren’t you, Ianto?”

If it wasn’t for Owen practically screaming with laughter they might have heard Ianto reply.

“I was…” He said softly as he left for his safe space in the archives.

  
  
Jack gave him some time to cool off before he went down to check on him.

“Look, I’m sorry they found out.” Jack started to say as he entered the lower room where Ianto was hiding at his desk. “I needed Tosh’s help reading the file you had sent. It was only her and Gwen who ended up seeing parts of it."

“It’s fine. Really Jack… It’s no big deal.” Ianto said with what felt like a sad smile.

“It’s your personal file though. It was a total breach of privacy.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve read all of their files, too. I’ve had a lot of time down here between making rounds of coffee.”

“Huh, well. I won’t uh… tell anyone you said that.” Jack said. “But it still doesn’t give Owen the right to laugh at you. I mean, so what if you did ballet. It’s not really funny. It’s actually kind of _cool_.”

“Cool?” Ianto raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve never met too many guys who bend in half like that.” 

Ianto laughed. It was a good sound to hear. It seemed to be missing from the hub for far too long.

  
  
Things had settled down for a bit thanks to a spree in rift activity and Owen having multiple autopsies to keep him busy. However, it didn’t stop him from calling Ianto names every time he came around with fresh coffee.

“Thanks, Cinderella!” He said one day. 

“You know, I actually have to applaud your research into that one. That's an amazing role to dance.” He trailed off as he took the last empty mug away.

“Fuck.” Owen started. “Please tell me you danced as Cinderella. Christmas will have come early.”

“No.” Ianto said apologetically. “Just the prince.”

“Huh…” Owen said as Ianto walked out of the bay.

As soon as the team realized that one of them would end up dead (besides Jack) before they ever convinced their teaboy to show them some moves, they knew they needed a new plan of attack. This time it was Owen to come up with the idea. Although, it was going to take some convincing. He knew just the way.

“Good morning, Tosh.” Owen said as he leaned over his coworker's station and batted his eyelashes at her. She looked up and watched the display in horror.

“Don’t ever do that again.” She told him.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m a bit out of practice with that one. Which leads me to think, Tosh… maybe you and I should grab a drink some time?”

Tosh sighed. 

“What do you need, Owen? Make it quick.”

“Dammit, you know me too well..” He said while rolling his chair around to her side of the desk. “I have an idea. And it’s a horrible idea. But it’s going to need some technical snooping. Something you’re way better at than me.”

“Considered me flattered. What are we doing?”

“ _Research_.” He replied, as if it made all the sense in the world.

“Go on.” Tosh encouraged him.

“Well, if Ianto went to this fancy dance school you and Gwen keep going on about, don’t you think it would be fancy enough for them to record like… recitals or something?”

“Shit.” She swore. “You want me to hack a ballet school? I don’t know if that’s in my realm of capabilities.” She laughed quietly.

“That sounds like you’re going to do it. Right?” Owen looked almost manic with glee.

“I need to know what year and what show he could have possibly been in.”

“How do we get that?”

Tosh thought for a moment. “Well if he was there from ages fourteen to seventeen, that would be somewhere between 1997 and 2000. Their website should have a back catalogue of performances.”

After another ten minutes the two of them had narrowed it down to two shows available in the archives, both with a cast list containing a Ianto Jones. The first was Giselle, and the other was of course, The Nutcracker. 

“Which one do you want first?” Tosh asked Owen.

“Is that even a question? The Nutcracker.” He was practically wheezing over the idea.

The commotion at Tosh’s work station was enough to draw Jack’s attention to them. So he decided now seemed like a good idea for a visit from the boss.

“Hey kids. What are we up to that looks like no good?” He asked with his usual charming smile.

“Nothing!” Owen yipped out, trying to seem casual, but utterly failing. Jack peered over at the monitor to see a frozen screen with a grainy video that looked like it was once on VHS before being converted into digital. It was paused on a young ballerina surrounded by what appeared to be giant rat soldiers.

“Please don’t tell me he was a mouse…” Jack whispered to them. Ianto was up in the tourist office at the moment, but you could never be too cautious around him.

“What are you guys watching over there?” Gwen giggled at them all huddled together.

“These two naughty children are watching a turn of the millennium edition of The Nutcracker for some apparent reason.” Jack said as he motioned with a nod of his head for her to join them.

“Oh no! You didn’t? This is so evil.” Gwen said before quickly adding, “Which one is he?!”

“We’re not sure. He’s listed in the cast but there weren't roles listed. He would have been fifteen. I don’t even know what he would look like then. He could be one of the mice for all we know.” Tosh explained.

“Can we fast forward through the whole thing? How long could this possibly be?” Owen asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jack snorted. “You’ve never seen The Nutcracker?”

“And you have?” Owen chastised.

“Of course I’ve seen it. What kind of uncultured beast do you take me for?”

They were six minutes into fast forwarding the recording while pausing every so often to inspect any male dancer as if they were doing a crime scene analysis.

“Have you found me yet?” A beautiful welsh voice suddenly interrupted from up on the walk to Myfanwy’s nest. The four coworkers screamed in surprise, setting off the Pteranodon into a screeching fit. Ianto covered his ears and came down to the first floor as smooth as a ghost. He looked over the screen to where a bunch of sugar plum fairies were paused in their number. 

“We’re sorry, Ianto.” Gwen said with an appropriate amount of guilt.

“I really should let you watch the whole thing, but I’ll have mercy on you. I’m the Arabian Dancer in act two.” The four heads whipped around to look at each other with delight. “But I’m not in this recording. This is the matinee with some of the understudies.”

Owen booed. “Damn it, I just sat through all this for nothing?”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” Ianto said politely.

“All right, everyone! Back to work! You had your fun. Sorry they’re being a bunch of brats about this.” Jack apologized to Ianto as he started to collect empty coffee mugs from desks to go wash out. Jack was feeling rather guilty for not stopping them.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you enjoying this investigation, too, sir.”

“Well of course! Like I would miss out on seeing my favorite coffee maker in a set of tights.” Jack whistled.

“May I remind you that I was a minor, sir.” Ianto deadpanned and instantly took the wind out of Jack’s sail.

“Ah. Yes. I’ll just be uh... retconning myself from ever remembering saying that now.” He pointed to his office over his shoulder before throwing a salute and evacuated the scene.

“You know…” Ianto called to Jack before he got too far away. “All you had to do was ask.”

Jack stopped walking. By the time he turned around to say something, perhaps ask-- Ianto was nowhere to be seen.

The next day went by as usual. Rift alarms, weevils in the streets, Jack dying… just a typical day at work. However, the night was predicted to be much calmer so Jack decided there was no need for anyone to hang around. Even Ianto was excited to get some fresh air. But before he left he stopped by Jack’s office and put something on his desk. Even though Jack wasn’t in there, he could see him do it through the large glass windows. 

_What in the world could that be?_ He thought to himself.

Tosh and Gwen were putting on their Jackets when Ianto headed towards them on his way to the cog door. 

“Hey Tosh, I was thinking.” Ianto said, a bit nervously, “Were you really interested in going to see Coppélia?”

“Oh.” The question caught Tosh off guard. “Actually Ianto, I think I would be.”

Ianto smiled. 

“Good, I’ll keep that in mind when tickets go on sale. Have a good night at the bar, ladies.” He gave them a small salute as they giggled with their own farewells.

Jack watched his team leave for the evening before heading to the hot house to water the plants and check in on their new alien aloe plant, otherwise now known as Ulla. He was oddly tired, probably from dying earlier that day. So comfort food and watching some television from his bed were calling his name.

After warming up some leftover Chinese food and heading to his office, he put the food on his desk and undid his braces. That felt better already. But his plan to quickly finish up some work while eating got suddenly derailed when he remembered Ianto left something on his desk. Jack looked around in the mess to see what wasn’t standard debris. Ah, it’s a tape… a VHS tape.

He picked up the tape in a simple white cardboard sleeve and read the writing on it.

_Giselle, 2000. I'm Prince Albrecht. Don't worry, I fast forwarded it already for you._

Jack didn’t blink, perhaps he didn’t even breath, for almost a minute as his brain tried to catch up to what he was reading. _Oh…_

He was now extra excited that he sent the team home early. He couldn’t be more enthralled that he was going to be the first to get to see Ianto… a baby Ianto… but still Ianto-- dance. 

_Adorable_. His heart fluttered.

 _Not now, heart_. Jack mentally threatened, whether he knew it or not.

Looking at the tape after removing it from its cardboard sleeve, it was indeed fast forwarded more than halfway. Discarding the idea of getting work done, he took the tape and his dinner down into his quarters. Thankfully, Jack isn’t fond of upgrading his style very often so he still had a VHS player connected to his television. 

(Tosh did gift him with a DVD player a year ago after he died a very gruesome death. He was stuck in bed for almost a week while the two halves of him sewed themselves back together. The team didn’t know if he was cognitively aware, but they thought he might be really bored if he was stuck just staring at his ceiling. Gwen brought in her entire DVD collection of Disney movies for him and then promptly discovered Jack didn’t have anything to play them on. Tosh rushed out and picked one up. If anyone were to ask, he would probably admit it was the best week of his life, apart from screaming in pain for most of it. Bless Owen for turning the volume up for him. Although, Owen had to tap out when Jack requested The Little Mermaid for the fourth time.)

Setting his dinner down on his bed he went about plugging in the tape. Due to the very tight quarters of his room, he was very close to the screen. He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth and hit play. 

The lights came up, the scene was forest like and very blue. Even though it was a bit grainy for a VHS, it was clear enough to know the exact moment a much younger Ianto entered. However, he wasn’t as young as he anticipated. Doing some quick math, this Ianto was seventeen. This was his last year dancing. Framed by a row of ballerinas on both sides of the stage, he stood poised. Jack had to pause it for a moment just to take in the sight of Ianto in a very prince-like costume and tights. It was positively _darling_. He took another bite of food and hit play again. As the music began to swell, Ianto’s arms raised in a movement that was absolutely beautiful. 

As Ianto made that first leap across the stage, Jack promptly choked on a mouthful of lo mein noodles. _Holy shit_. And Ianto didn’t stop with the leaping! Making a pass across the stage, jump after jump had him practically floating in the air. _How did he do that thing with his feet while he was in the air?_

Jack had to pause and rewind. He felt like he wasn’t appreciating what he was witnessing enough. Ianto… _this was Ianto?_

He was beautiful.

Jack watched from the beginning again in awe. This time he made it all the way through Ianto’s piece before the scene carried on. Through every leap and spin, his mind was blown. By the time this Prince Albrecht was in his final pose, dramatically laying on the stage, Jack’s heart was in his throat. Applause erupted from the audience. Jack could see just how labored Ianto’s breathing was as he remained posed after such a feat of physical strength he had just accomplished.

 _This was his Ianto,_ Jack thought possessively, though he was very far from letting Ianto know that.

Jack rewound the tape again to Ianto’s entrance. 

This time, he let himself just take in the whole scene of what Ianto was portraying. Jack didn’t know the story, but there was so much emotion in every movement that he felt like he understood what the prince was trying to say. 

And that’s when it struck Jack like someone turning on the lights.

Ianto was so quiet. But he said so much at the same time. Every small expression, every gesture from making coffee to mastering the archives-- Ianto spoke volumes. Suddenly, the amount of discipline he saw in the man everyday made so much sense. Dancers did the impossible, physically and mentally as their job. Falling down and getting hurt never stopped the show. Even in a suit and tie, Ianto danced through his pain every day right in front of the eyes of the team and no one ever noticed because it was in Ianto’s blood that the show must always go on.

Jack watched Ianto again. It was hard to think that he was seeing the last year that Ianto was training. What had happened that made Ianto want to stop dancing? He obviously was good. But it was hard to think that if he didn’t work for Torchwood, he might have had the potential to be a great success in the ballet world. And maybe instead of being treated like a servant having to clean up after their shit, he could have been _something_.

The applause of the audience interrupted Jack’s thoughts as he once again watched to the end of Ianto’s number. All of those people, cheering for his talent and beauty. And here he was… barely a handful of years older, forgotten by everything around him.

“Why did you give this up, Ianto?” Jack whispered to himself, suddenly losing his appetite for his dinner. “ _Who broke you?”_

But then again, perhaps Ianto wasn’t as broken as Jack thought. Thinking back on the last few weeks, not once did Ianto ever seem embarrassed about this part of his life. He wasn’t exactly keeping it a secret. All Gwen did was ask him. Jack wondered just how much he could learn by just asking the right questions. Sure, Owen was bullying him relentlessly about it, and no one likes to be on the receiving end of that. But otherwise, Ianto seemed to almost light up at the brief mentions of his former craft. Jack was almost jealous that Tosh was going to be the one to get to go to the ballet with him.

It all just made so much sense now. Ianto wasn’t ashamed of this part of himself, much like he wasn’t ashamed of any other aspect of his life. He fought for Lisa to the end. He worked more than anyone at Torchwood and won’t even question his duties to retcon people or any such dubious tasks from which the other team members shy away. And he damn well wasn’t ashamed to kiss Jack back when the opportunity came. Why would he feel the need to be ashamed of how beautiful he used to be on stage? He was beautiful in his own constant and relentless way that Jack felt very few people would recognize. 

But he recognized it. Ianto was unapologetic about who he was, whether he was dancing in tights or kissing Jack out on the Plass in the middle of a rain storm. He was unapologetic and braver than anyone Jack had ever met.

Jack began to rewind the scene to watch again and then had a thought...

He kept rewinding all the way to the beginning so he could watch the entirety of the production. Sure, he was in for hours of ballet. But he was also in for hours of being able to talk to Ianto about something other than Torchwood for a change.

And if Jack knew one thing from working for Torchwood all these years, it was that you had to be ready.

And Jack was ready to know Ianto Jones.

The _real_ Ianto Jones.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Black Eyes and Ballet Slippers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who read Variation in Act II and asked for more. Hopefully this is the beginning of expanding this universe. I'll continue to add new parts as chapters here to keep it all together.

**Variation in Act II **

**Black Eyes and Ballet Slippers**

It was one of those rare weekends where Ianto Jones had the whole two days off. No one really knew what he got up to outside of the hub in his free time, and for the most part no one was really concerned anymore. However, when he showed up Monday with a bruise across his left cheekbone and a shiner that he sure didn’t have on Friday when he left, the mysterious case of Ianto Jones was reopened for investigation.

A low whistle stopped him in his tracks as he hurried to the coffee maker. Ianto looked up and swore under his breath.

“I hope the other guy looks worse.” Jack said as he leaned against the metal door frame of his office. 

Ianto sighed.

“Unfortunately, he doesn’t.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

“So someone else did that to you? I was half expecting you to at least try the _I fell down the stairs_ line.” Jack said as he began to come closer for inspection. Ianto, now obviously wanting to avoid the topic, looked back down and made his way to the kitchen even faster.

“Coffee, sir?” Ianto asked, making his point.

“Sure.” Jack answered. “You can avoid the topic for now. But at least let Owen take a look at your eye when he gets in… whenever that will be.” Jack looked at the clock that now read half past seven. It was still early by the standards of their three other team members. However, Ianto was in the kitchen prepping meals for their non-human residents while the coffee brewed as if he was already behind schedule. Maybe he was? No one really knew what Ianto’s day consisted of once he went downstairs. By the time anyone else made it in, coffee was already on everyone’s desks and Ianto was elbow deep in the W-Z filing room in the basement, avoiding the world.

The cog door alarm sounded and Jack looked up through the window of his office just in time to see Owen sneak into his work area. _Really?_

“Hey! You!” Owen’s head popped up at the sound of Jack’s voice from the door behind his desk. “Yes, you!”

“Shit… Look, Jack, I’m sorry I just got caught up this morning, nothing--” Owen started but was interrupted.

“Owen, I don’t care that you’re hungover. I just need you to do something once you get some of that coffee in your system.” Jack said as he came into the work area and handed Owen his full mug from his desk.

“Did you make this?” Owen asked suspiciously and then sniffed the cup. “Jack… Are you retconning me?”

“What? Jesus, Owen, no! I was just trying to be a nice boss.” Jack said and then Owen took in the dejected look on his face.

Owen slowly drank the coffee.

“What can I do for you, Jack?” 

“I need you to drag Ianto up from the basement and give him a physical.”

Owen snorted. “Why are you asking me? That seems more something up your alley.”

A small laugh echoed from across the hub. Jack whipped around and stared at Tosh, absolutely betrayed by his team.

“I’m sorry. Is Ianto okay, Jack?” Tosh quickly changed the subject back to the mission Jack was on.

“No, he’s hiding because someone punched him in the face.” There. That got everyone’s attention.

“Who punched Ianto in the face?” Owen all but yelled as he looked around at who was there. “Gwen? Did you punch the teaboy?” Gwen poked her head out from the conference room where she was laying out information for a meeting later that day.

“What?! Why would I do that? I thought he was working all weekend like usual.” Gwen said as she looked pointedly at Jack.

“Are you trying to accuse me of punching Ianto in the face, Gwen?” Jack looked shocked.

“To be fair, he has punched you before.” 

“Oh, Gwen does have a point.” Tosh interjected from her station, looking utterly bemused.

“Yeah, it hurt-- I mean… Owen! Just go check on him, please. Thank you. I’m leaving the room now.” Jack said and held true to his promise, going to his office as fast as he could with his hands up in surrender.

“Well I guess I’m off to find teaboy. If I don’t come back in half an hour, send a search time.” Owen said as he finished setting his stuff down and fished out a flashlight from a drawer. Could never be too safe when going into the basement.

It was almost at Owen’s twenty minute mark when he finally found Ianto. Or more so that Ianto had found Owen.

“Jack sent you for me?” Ianto asked as he appeared behind Owen in the pitch dark.

“Christ! Ianto! Don’t sneak up on me like that when I already have to come down into this spooky hell hole you call an office.” 

“It’s not an office, it’s the archives.” Ianto said as calmly as he could while recoiling from Owen who spun around brandishing his flashlight after Ianto quite frankly, scared the living shit out of him.

“Whoa there…” Owen started while lifting his light to see more of Ianto’s face. “I’m not going to hit you. Apparently that was someone else’s job.” Ianto squinted in the light. “They did pretty good work it looks like, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Cool, but I don’t really care how you assess this situation. I’m under orders to bring you to the surface and sign off that you don’t have a concussion. Now lead us out of here, teaboy. If we don’t show up in the hub in the next six minutes they’re sending Myfanwy down to find us.”

“Really?” Ianto asked, sounding almost too excited about being hunted in the tunnels.

“No. I mean, we do indeed have six minutes. But it will most likely be Jack looking for us, and to be honest, I would much prefer if it was the dinosaur.”

  
  


With two and a half minutes to spare, Owen walked back into the main area of the hub with Ianto trailing behind him. He was trying his best to stare at the floor to hide his current state, but he was the most interesting thing in the hub at the moment according to the rest of the team.

“Oh wow!” Gwen piped up. “Jack wasn’t kidding. Someone got you good didn’t they.”

“Yeah…” Ianto said to the floor.

“Who had the nerve to hit such a lovely face?” Gwen all but crooned while trying to get a better look.

“Hey! Patient confidentiality. He’s mine and doesn’t have to answer that. Ianto, take a seat down in the med bay.”

“Thanks.” Ianto said sincerely. He looked relieved for Owen to give him his free pass from having to answer nosey questions from the team.

As he hopped up on the examination table, Owen closed the plastic curtain across the doorway and hit the remote to the CD player that started blaring _The Clash_. It was as good as privacy got in the hub for the others to not be able to listen in. For a few minutes, Owen ran all the standard tests to make sure Ianto didn’t have a concussion. Once he had the all clear, he then did some minor poking at his cheekbone.

“I don’t think it’s broken. The bruising isn’t as bad as it should be for that, but then again when did this happen?”

“Sunday morning. Was having breakfast at my sister’s house.” Ianto said and Owen put his penlight down on the tray table.

“Ianto Jones… Did your sister do this to you?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“Well, then who did?” Owen asked as if he was one second away from calling a social worker.

“It really doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you have some partner we don’t know about hitting you around.”

“I don’t think that would even be Torchwood’s business. I’ve read all the bylaws and protocols ever written for employee welfare and I’m almost positive this would be none of the business of this operation.” Ianto stated as if he were the defense lawyer for his own trial.

“Fine, it’s my business as a friend.” Owen said while crossing his arms in defiance. 

“You’re not my friend.” 

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.” Ianto apologized and paused before quietly asking, “You’re my friend?”

“Yup." Owen said, now using the same voice he would have in the children's ward of a hospital. "And it is now entirely in my duty to find out who did this to you so I can take a bat to their knees because that’s what friends do.”

Ianto sighed.

“It was just my brother-in-law...Johnny. Kind of an asshole. We got into an argument as I was leaving and he socked me one while my hands were full. He’s too Welsh for his own good.”

Owen ran a scanner over his face and watched the projection on one of the walls.

“Well good news is that it’s not broken and your eye is gonna be fine.” But Owen paused before putting the scanner away. “Anywhere else I should be checking?” 

“No.” Ianto shook his head. “Was just my face and my pride… but not much can be done about that.” 

“Well I’m going to send you back to the spooky basement with some painkillers and an ice pack in case it’s bothering you too much. But in the meantime, where does Johnny live and does Jack need to Torchwood him?”

“ _Torchwood him?”_ Ianto asked, confused.

“You know… make him disappear.”

“Nah, he can stay. My sister loves him too much. I just wish he wasn’t such a… _shit father._ ”

“Didn’t know Ianto was an Uncle Ianto. Interesting.” Owen hummed. “He doesn’t pull this shit with them, does he?” He said as he gestured at Ianto’s face.

“No. It was a pretty stupid argument, looking back at it. But I just… I don’t want Mica to have to go through what I did, you know?”

“I really don’t know, actually. Mica?” Owen asked carefully. Perhaps it was the promise of patient confidentiality that had Ianto telling him more about his life outside of Torchwood than ever before. Owen definitely knew better than to spoil the moment.

“My niece. I have a niece and a nephew. But Mica… she’s so quiet. She’s already struggling with making friends in school and Johnny and her brother are just so… _loud._ So my sister signed her up for dance class after school, and she seems happy.”

“Another dancer in the family?”

“Well sort of-- she’s not very encouraged. This weekend they’re having a Daddy-and-Me ballet class on Sunday for Father’s Day and Johnny absolutely refuses to go.”

“Aw, let me guess. Would rather watch the match?” Owen asked while closing up Ianto’s file and pulling an ice pack from the fridge. Ianto held it to his face as he continued.

“Exactly. And poor Mica is crying because she’s going to be the only one there alone and now she doesn’t want to go and has herself so upset saying she should just quit dance class. And I just can’t let that happen, you know?” Ianto said more so into the ice pack while taking a handful of painkillers from the doctor. "So anyway... I politely tried to explain to Johnny what a shit father he was being. And yeah... got punched in the face. The end."

“Well, I’m going to say the obvious solution to this problem.”

“What’s that?” Ianto asked with all honesty. 

“You should go with her instead.” Owen said. Ianto squinted his eye not covered by an ice pack at him.

“I can’t do that. I’m not her father. It’d be one thing if she didn’t have a dad, but he’s there and has very loudly voiced his fragile male opinion on the matter.”

“Oh screw him, you can totally go. You’ll be the bell of the ball. Those dance mums will have a riot over you.”

“That’s what also scares me. Besides, I’m already on the schedule to watch the rift on Sunday so Tosh can have the day off.”

“Wow… Tosh took a day off?” Owen asked sarcastically.

“Right? She never takes off so I can’t ruin that for her.”

“So you’re saying you would go if you had the day off?”

“For Mica? Absolutely. But I’m not getting her hopes up. I know how Torchwood works.” Ianto hopped off the examination table. “Am I clear to return to work?”

“Yeah, yeah… you can go back to the spooky basement.”

Owen wasn’t positive, but he thought he heard Ianto give a little “ _Yay!_ ” as he started up the stairs.

  
  


By the time lunch rolled around, the team had captured one weevil, retrieved a rubber tire that fell through the rift from the 1920’s, and retconned three civilians. It was a pretty productive morning so far and Ianto had thought ahead and ordered pizza to be delivered just in time for the majority of the team to return to the hub, weevil and tire in tow. He was also no longer hiding in the basement it seemed. 

The team had figured out it was best to not bring up the black eye again if they wanted to keep Ianto on the main floor of the hub and their coffee cups filled. So the five sat around the conference room table in companionable silence while the midday news played on one of the screens. They couldn’t help but be a bit proud every time Torchwood business would make it on the news without it actually being known as Torchwood business. Today, their weevil sighting had been a gas leak… “ _Cardiff should stay clear of the docks for the rest of the day._ ”

Another job well done.

“Hey Jack.” Owen suddenly cut in as the weather report started. _More rain. Always more rain._ “Can I work this Sunday and trade with Ianto’s shift?”

Jack momentarily stopped with a mouthful of pizza before remembering to finish eating it. “Um… Sure?” He looked between the two other men. Owen’s face was a blank slate, but Ianto’s jaw was practically on the floor. That was the giveaway. “What trouble are you two up to right now? What am I going to find broken?”

“The x-ray glasses from the fortieth century, but that’s not the point, Jack.” Owen quickly said. “I’m just trying to be a good friend and let Ianto have Sunday off.”

This time, both Ianto and Jack stared suspiciously at Owen.

“Are you possessed right now?” Said Jack.

“You broke the glasses? What were you doing with them?” Asked Ianto, eyebrow raised.

“You’re both losing the plot.” Owen sighed. “Ianto is filling in for Tosh because she is finally taking a day off. I want to fill in for Ianto so he can go to a… thing.”

“Oh!” Tosh interjected from next to Owen. “If that’s the case, I can just work on Sunday.”

“No!” The team said.

“Tosh, if you try to work this Sunday I’m going to fire you. You’re starting to cross the line between workaholic and resident of Torchwood.” Jack threatened with all sincerity. 

“So I can have Ianto’s shift?” Owen asked again.

“Sure? What thing is so important for Ianto to go to that you of all people are asking?” Jack asked as he leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. He was genuinely curious about this new dynamic between his team members.

“I’ll kill you if you tell him.” Ianto said to Owen with no inflection at all. Ah, so things hadn’t changed that much.

“Ianto has to go to Daddy-and-Me ballet class on Sunday.” Owen gleefully informed as Ianto buried his face in his hands. He peaked between his fingers to see his boss and coworkers exchanging distraught and dumbfounded looks.

“Ianto?” Gwen asked so quietly as if she were about to cry. “You’re a father?”

“What?! No! Oh God, no!” Ianto yelled as Owen keeled over with laughter. 

“Then who’s--”

“It’s my niece.” Ianto said before the question could even be asked. Gwen’s eyes lit up at the sudden information--almost as much as Jack’s. “Her father doesn’t want to go and Owen is insisting I should go in her place. I’m perfectly fine with working this Sunday if it’s too much of a hassle.”

“Sounds like Owen is working this Sunday… but on one condition.” Jack said.

“What’s that, sir?”

“You better send us a picture.”

By Sunday morning, Ianto’s black eye was practically gone. If he had taken any life skills from _T_ _heatre Makeup 101_ , it was that foundation can cover up all sorts of things. _All sorts._ There… he was now presentable enough to be a stand in caretaker of a child.

As he pulled his Audi into the parking lot of the dance studio that was sandwiched between the other store fronts of a shopping plaza, he saw his sister and niece waiting out front for him. He was more than fifteen minutes early, but could see other young girls heading in with their large, resentful looking fathers. It was a shame Johnny was missing out for he would have fit right in.

“Uncle Ianto!” A high pitched voice squealed across the lot as he got out with his bag and shut the door. 

“Mica!” Ianto yelled back as she came running over. He cringed in horror as he noticed she was already in her slippers and running across the asphalt. It was best that he scooped her up as fast as he could. With an arm full of fluffy tutu and his niece, he made his way over and kissed Rhiannon on the cheek.

“Oh, Ianto.” His sister began, sounding more stressed out than usual. “You have no idea. You have absolutely saved the day.” If only she knew that it was part of his job description.

“Ah, it’s no worry. Is it?” He said more so to Mica who had now buried her face against his shoulder.

“See? Uncle Ianto is gonna dance with you! And then we can go home and have Father’s Day dinner with the boys, right?” Rhiannon asked and got a meek nod from the ballerina.

“I might have to pass on that part.” Ianto said. It had only been a week since he was punched in the face, after all.

“That’s fine.” She laughed. “I have to say, it’s nice seeing you out of a suit for a change. You almost look sixteen again.” Ianto looked down at his black tracksuit bottoms and black t-shirt. Still suave looking but definitely more relaxed. A habit he had to pick up for _Away Day’_ s during his time at Torchwood One. But looking at the other men going inside wearing jeans and trainers already had him feeling a bit self conscious. Which was odd for it should definitely be the other way around.

“But we shouldn’t be late, should we?” Ianto asked with a bit of a bounce to the small ballerina. “Good habits make good dancers!” He proclaimed to Mica as Rhiannon held the door open for them. At the sound of his voice, half a dozen men who looked like they would rather be watching the match looked up at Ianto like they were already planning to kick his ass in the alley outback of a dance studio afterwards.

“Fuck.” Ianto said and got a few gasps from the other young girls. "Shit!” He said realizing he definitely doesn’t spend enough time around children. Jack doesn’t count. Their mother’s taking seats on the side gasped at the profanity.

“I mean… Sorry. I’m just going to go sit in the corner now.” He muttered while putting his ballerina down and getting glares from the parents. He took a seat on one of the benches with the young dancers and a couple fathers.

“Have fun Ianto, you’re going to do just fine, I know it.” Rhiannon said with a pat to Ianto’s head as she left to greet the other dance mums for their weekly gossip on the sideline. Ianto patted the seat next to him for Mica to join him as he began to kick off his shoes and dig through his rucksack.

“So Mica… How is your ballet teacher?” He asked to start small talk with the small person that was now his ward for the next hour as he pulled a pair of well worn canvas split-sole ballet shoes out. He switched from sneakers to the black slippers in a blink of an eye. Getting a few curious stares from a couple other men, Ianto decided to no longer give a shit and at least feel comfortable while he was here. This _was_ his safe space, after all.

“She’s really nice and really pretty!” Mica finally declared after some consideration to the question.

“Wow, really? Sounds just like you.” Ianto said as he began to roll his feet out. 

“Noooo, I’m not.” Mica said quietly after she giggled at the compliment. Ianto squinted at her.

“Yes, you are! Why don’t you think you’re nice and pretty?” He asked, looking around the room to see who looked like the mean girls.

“David says I’m ugly.” Mica whispered from his side.

“Well guess what?" Ianto whispered back. “Your brother is a fucking twat, and you can tell him I said that.”

Mica immediately clasped her hands over her mouth and shook her head no. Ianto looked up across the room and noticed his sister staring suspiciously at them. Ianto just smiled and waved.

The sound of someone clapping for everyone’s attention triggered some sort of Pavlovian response in Ianto as he immediately sat upright and faced the teacher who entered the room from the side office. Remembering where he was at, he tried to relax a little. This was supposed to be for fun. 

“Good morning my little ballerinas! And my big ballerinas for the day!” The woman who must not have been more than ten years older than Ianto projected into the studio. All the mothers on the opposite side cheered with mirth as the big ballerinas all swore under their breath. _Were those mums drinking wine?!_

“Happy Father’s Day to all our fathers here! I’m Miss Jenny, your daughters’ ballet instructor and we’re so thrilled you all could join us!” The teacher said as everyone settled a bit more to listen to her. Next to Ianto, Mica poked at his hand next to hers on the bench. Her sign that she wanted him to hold it, so he did. The poor thing. “Before we get started on our group lesson, I want to let you know that we have a few surprises, including coffee and doughnuts at the end!” Ianto looked around and suddenly noted the table with the boxes of doughnuts and was that a box of coffee? _Oh dear God._

“But first, the girls have quite the surprise for today and have been working hard on preparing a number to showcase as a way to say thank you for being the best fathers in the world!” Miss Jenny continued. Yes, Ianto decided that maybe Jack should _Torchwood_ Johnny into oblivion for not being here today. Instead he decided to look down at Mica with his best surprised expression he could muster. That seemed to cheer her up. Miss Jenny clapped twice and the young girls immediately got up and assembled themselves into position in two lines. There were approximately sixteen children all in tutus in the class ranging from about four to six years old. And if Ianto were honest with himself, he would admit that this was absolutely adorable. If he ever had kids, he would insist on them all being dancers just so he could watch their little, tiny recitals. For now though, he was going to have to settle for kidnapping his niece.

The music started from the CD player in the corner and Ianto immediately recognized it from _The Nutcracker_. As the girls performed their number alongside their teacher who guided them through as a reminder of the moves from the side, Ianto kept exchanging looks at his sister who looked on proudly as Mica did her best. Oh yes, they were definitely related. Mica wasn’t even looking at the teacher as she remembered everything on her own. 

They finished the quick piece and took a bow. At least the other fathers knew how to make a scene when cheering for their kids. But now it was time for what all those mothers in the corner were waiting for… to watch their welsh beef husbands make fools of themselves trying to do ballet.

“Okay little ladies, it’s time to grab your dads and find a space on the floor!” Everyone stood up with the fear of God in their eyes. “Don’t worry dads, your daughters will be there to help guide you through learning the first few basic moves of ballet.”

As the CD player began to play a quiet mix of classical music, Ianto leaned down to quietly ask Mica, “Want to hide in the back row?” She nodded and led the way to the back of two rows. Rhiannon could still see them from where they were placed as they were now much closer to her and the mums. But at least they had a good view to giggle at everyone else together.

They started with the basics of stretching and working through the first to fifth positions. The teacher would explain and Ianto would let Mica demonstrate for him before following her lead. For a while, everyone seemed to be having a good laugh at the fathers stumbling in work boots as they’re young daughters pretty much handed them their asses in being better than them. As they began to add arms into their foot exercises, they made it to third position before Ianto couldn’t help himself. Looking down at his nieces stiff hands as she made the delicate arm movements was starting to give him anxiety. He leaned down next to her as the teacher was on the other side of the room.

“Here Mica, I want you to try something for me.” He whispered. “See how you got your hands like this?” Ianto gave his hand the best impression of a chisel. “Shake them out and let your fingers flop.” He demonstrated and Mica followed along. “There you go, and now just arch them a little like your painting the air with your hands as your arms move.” Ianto proceeded to do the movement exercise they were on so she could see what he meant. After a moment she shook her hands out again and followed along.

“There you go!” Ianto whispered his encouragement. “You got ballet hands now.” By the time they reached fifth position again, Mica was practically a completely different ballerina with the amount of confidence with which she was holding herself. For another fifteen or so minutes the class moved through learning _pliés_ , _tendus_ , and _sautés_ , mostly without too much French involved. Ianto had to hand it to the other men, as they began to actually take it more seriously. Perhaps they would possibly understand one day just how hard this practice was for their children to be disciplined in. If only Johnny was here instead…

"All right class, for the next segment we are going to learn a very small routine. Let’s make more space and split everyone up into two groups, A and B, and learn the moves before piecing it all together. You’ll learn the move and then make a pass across the room doing it multiple times, and then the second group will do the same. The first move we will be learning is called a _pique_ turn.”

“Oh, yes!” Ianto muttered to himself, more so than to Mica. He could do these in his sleep. He watched respectfully as the teacher broke the turn down and then led Group A across the floor with only one middle aged man falling over. Nice. Then it was his group’s turn. Somehow he and Mica ended up not hiding in the back this time. But Ianto did as he was told, doing a pique turn at about one-twentieth of the speed he was probably still capable of doing them. Today was about Mica, but Ianto would be lying if he said he wasn’t having fun just simply doing ballet again in a non-competitive environment. As Group B made their pass across the floor, Ianto made sure to follow Mica’s speed and not get ahead of her. However, this resulted in Ianto doing a rather elegant slow chain of turns across the floor.

“Well, look at twinkle toes over there!” A man’s voice suddenly chimed in from Group A, followed by some barking laughter from others. Ianto just looked over at Rhiannon and frowned a little.

“Oh don’t listen to ‘em sweetie, you’re doing just fine!” His sister called over and the ladies next to her tittered.

“Rhi…” Was all he said with a shake of his head.

“Is that one yours?” Another woman asked her from down the bench.

“That’s Mica’s uncle Ianto. Her tad couldn’t make it today.” She clarified.

“He dances quite lovely.” Ianto could hear the response.

“He does! Doesn’t he?” His sister said all too loudly as he tucked himself back into the corner of his group with his ballerina again.

Before long, everyone had managed to survive working their way through a few more moves, including a modest _saut de chat_ to let everyone have a chance to really try their biggest leap across the floor at the end.

“Okay, now for our grand finale, we’re going to let each of you perform your daddy-daughter routine for the class and for our lovely audience to get a chance to take pictures.” Miss Jenny informed as she put the music of _Swan Lake_ up a bit louder and let chaos reign in the dance studio. The mothers on the side bench cheered and waved digital cameras and phones at the ready. Ianto just shook his head in disbelief at his sister that she managed to get him out here. Somehow the fathers followed the lead of the kids to make a line to take their turn. Ianto looked down at Mica, who looked a bit nervous. 

“Do you remember everything?” He asked her.

“I don’t think so…” She said quietly. 

“It’s okay, let’s rehearse a little while we wait.” And while the other pairs went and got cheered for, Ianto quietly counted the moves to Mica while making the small gestures to mock what they had to do. By the time it was their turn, three fathers had tripped over their own feet, and Mica was more than ready.

“And remember your ballet hands.” Ianto said and they both shook out and flopped their hands. “Good.”

“Yay! Mica!” Rhiannon cheered as they became next in line. “Come on, Ianto! Make it a good one! Don’t crap out on me now! Ma didn’t pay for all those ballet classes for nothing, now did she?!” She cackled as she got into a better position to film.

Ianto rolled his eyes and let Miss Jenny count them in. Together they did their sixteen count routine, and for once, Ianto wasn’t shy about it. This was for Rhi and Mica, after all. And maybe a bit to put some of these fathers calling him twinkle toes in their place. Letting Mica take center stage, he complimented her upstage close to her side as if she were the prima ballerina of the Royal Ballet. For not having danced in several years, It looked and felt almost as if he had never stopped. _Why did he stop?_

On the last four counts, Ianto took his grand leap next to his niece and didn’t realize just how much force he had put into the jump. It was almost as if that sudden question ripped something out of his soul in the middle of a children’s dance studio. There were a couple shrieks from the peanut gallery and a few “Oh, come on!!” comments from some gentlemen. Trying to not have an existential crisis in front of strangers, Ianto smiled down at Mica before picking her up as they made space for the next pair.

“Great job, Mica! But you know what this means now? _Doughnuts!_ ” Ianto said to Mica as both their eyes both sparkled at the idea of the sweets for breakfast.

“Well, that sure was something!” Rhiannon met them halfway to the side of the room for everyone who was now finished. “Look at this still I got on the camera Johnny gave me last Christmas.” Ianto looked down and had to do a second take. There was Mica, looking like she had been doing a _saut de chat_ all her life. And behind her was Ianto, with practically a meter of air above her. Well… it was nice to know he still had it in him. Being as tall as he was always gave him the advantage as a danseur.

“Rhi… Can you send that to me?” Ianto asked.

“Sure. Ianto, are you blushing?” 

“Shut up. Let me get my doughnut I earned.”

“Oh, I think you earned two. And don’t forget your coffee.”

“Mica can have my coffee.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll be up all night!”

Ianto stuck out his tongue as him and Mica got a head start to the snack table. After choosing their favorites and trying to find another corner to hide in, a voice behind him caught him off guard.

“Mr. Davies?” Miss Jenny asked for him. He spun around wide eyed, like he was in trouble in dance school all over again.

“Mr. Jones, actually. Ianto Jones.” He quickly supplied as he handed Mica his cup of coffee to be able to shake the teacher’s hand.

“Ianto, I must say it was quite a joy having you in our class today. I’m making a grand assumption that you’ve danced before, am I correct?” She asked with a laugh.

“Yes… I um… studied at the Royal Ballet School… for a few years.” Ianto informed her. _But why did you stop, Ianto?_ The voice in the back of his head all but screamed.

“Wow, I’m quite impressed. Look, I won’t hold you long since I’m sure you have things to get to today with Mica. But I have a few older boys in our ten to twelve and thirteen to fourteen ballet classes that I’ve been trying to look for someone to possibly instruct a boys only class for them. And from what I’ve seen, you _might_ be qualified.” She laughed again. “Would that possibly be something of interest?”

“Oh, well… I mean… yes I would be interested. However, with my job... I can’t commit to anything schedule wise.” Ianto said, almost immediately feeling the lost opportunity once again to his responsibilities at Torchwood.

“Aw, that’s a shame. I would love for my boys to be able to jump like you just did one day.”

“I actually haven’t danced for quite some time now that I think about it.” Ianto said, almost embarrassed.

“Well here, let me get you a flyer. If you do ever have a break in your schedule, we have an adult drop in class on Wednesday nights at nine o’clock. Come dance with us!” He watched as she leaned into her office and grabbed the mentioned flyer off her desk. 

“Thanks, I’ll um… I’ll hold on to this.” He said while reading it over. _Maybe… Just maybe Jack would let him have some nights off…_

“Ianto Jones!” Rhi suddenly was yelling across the dance studio. “Did you give my kid a cup of coffee?!”

  
  


Later that night back at the hub, Jack heard his text message alert ring from his phone in his pocket. Fishing it out while he stopped reading a report from UNIT, he looked to see who it was texting him. It was a forwarded message from Ianto. There was no text but a picture of Ianto and Mica both leaping through the air together. A smile spread across Jack’s face that he could no longer suppress. _It was cute._

“Hey Owen!” Jack called out the door of his office to where the other man was monitoring the rift and possibly playing Space Invaders at the same time. “How do I print a picture off my phone?”

“Hold on, Grandpa! I’m almost done this level!”

Twenty minutes later and a lot of explaining new tech to Jack, he had a nicely folded up picture of Ianto dancing in his wallet.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Owen suddenly asked Jack as they both stood next to the printer still.

“Would it be a problem if I did?” Jack asked, not quite looking him in the eye.

“No, not with me. Just you know… Don’t… Look, I don’t want to give you the shovel talk. Be good to him, yeah?”

“Yeah, I will.” Jack said as he thought about the picture in his pocket and the racing thoughts of loving Ianto, and a house with a white picket fence, and dogs, and a ballerina all of their own; the racing thoughts that always got chased away by the darkness of the eternity that was his cursed life...

"I promise I’ll be good to him.”

_To be continued..._

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write this story for almost a decade. Thank you for reading it.


End file.
